slowly, by one degree
by precipice blades
Summary: Eijun and Satoru celebrate the latter's birthday. —furusawa; post-canon; nsfw.


**happy birthday to our pitcher prince and the love of sawamura's life, furuya! here's some trash.**

**title is from 1 degree by got7**

* * *

Usually when Satoru enters his apartment, he's greeted by an obnoxiously loud cry of his name, promptly followed by footsteps thundering down the hallway and a body falling into his outstretched arms. Soft brown hair would tickle his chin and arms would loop around his neck to bring his face down so that his lips would be taken in a sweet, chaste kiss.

Today, when Satoru steps into the apartment, none of those things happen. He frowns as he locks the door behind him, depositing his shoes before crossing the foyer leading to the main hallway. The kitchen lights are on and, when he enters, the first thing Satoru notices is a staggering amount of pots and pans cluttering the sink. The trash bin next to the stove is filled to the brim with strange concoctions of varying colors and odors, reminding Satoru of an elementary schooler's failed science projects.

As his socked feet softly pad across the kitchen floor, he wonders why it's so quiet. It's only seven in the evening, so Satoru knows his lover isn't out (both the rattling kettle atop the stove and the strange gunk that Satoru refuses to refer to as food teetering over the rim of the trash bin testify to that). Granted, he was supposed to come home earlier, right after practice had ended, but on the trek home he had passed by a store's window front that just happened to be displaying footage of a baby polar bear playing in the snow and, suffice to say, Satoru had lost track of time.

If anything, Satoru will just say that practice lasted longer than usual. It's not like he and Eijun are in the same team, so he's convinced his little white lie would be sufficient enough.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Eijun emerges from a doorway on the opposite side of the kitchen, donning a soiled, bright pink apron. There's a smudge of flour on his right cheek and his hair is mussy, strands standing at odd angles. The adorably disheveled sight of his lover temporarily overshadows Satoru's pressing concerns.

Temporarily being the operative word.

Under the straps of the apron, Satoru can make out white fabric and a familiar logo emblazoned on the sleeve. Before he can make a connection, Eijun is ambling closer, and Satoru's eyes lower to Eijun's legs only for his brain to short-circuit as arms come to circle around his neck and soft lips press against the corner of his mouth.

The gesture is, as always, sweet, but Satoru can't form a single coherent thought save for one line—_thigh-highs, thigh-highs, thigh-highs_—bouncing around his head like the screensaver of a computer.

When his brain decides to come back online—which couldn't have taken longer than five seconds at most, but felt like an eternity—he finally registers the endearing "Welcome home" Eijun whispers against his cheek, fabric brushing across his hoodie as he's enveloped into a warm hug.

"Wha—" Satoru croaks out embarrassingly. He immediately wants to wallow in shame from the pathetic display, only somewhat mollified by Eijun's soft laugh.

Bringing his own arms up, Satoru returns the hug, his elbows tucked over Eijun's sides and his hands clasped snugly over the dip of Eijun's back. Nuzzling into Eijun's hair, Satoru whispers back, "I'm home."

The tender moment is disrupted by a shrill whistle and Eijun breaks the hug, shooting Satoru an apologetic smile as he rushes over to turn the stove off. Reaching up, Eijun opens the cupboard, oblivious to how his oversized shirt slightly hikes over his bottom. Satoru averts his gaze immediately—for the sake his own health, of course—but the image of Eijun's pert ass sticking out is permanently seared into his brain.

Needing a distraction, Satoru stumbles towards the table and plops down onto the chair with an inaudible huff. It takes a great deal of effort on Satoru's part to not childishly slam his head against the table's polished surface as he thinks despairingly, _It's those damn thigh-highs._ If he weren't suffering the brunt of its effects, Satoru would find it humorous how easily his neurons stopped firing the moment he laid eyes on the cursed fabric covering Eijun's legs.

Finally looking forward, Satoru almost face-faults when he finally notices the various pots and plates spanning across the length of the table. While he wonders how he managed to have ignored all of that, Eijun comes over to place a cup of tea and an empty plate in front of him with a charming smile. Satoru stiffens, resolutely keeping his eyes locked on the liquid swirling inside the cup and trying to will down the blush threatening to take over his cheeks.

He rescinds his earlier statement—thigh-highs or no, this is all Eijun's fault. Somehow. Satoru isn't too confident of his conclusion, but if there's one thing he has, it's his bullheadedness.

Meanwhile, Eijun sits down at the chair adjacent to Satoru, watching Satoru pile food onto a plate and dig into it with an almost angry fervor. An impish smile stretches his lips as he crosses one leg over the other, keenly aware of how Satoru's gaze whips over to observe the movement before sliding up to make eye contact with Eijun, only to look away just as quickly, his cheeks pink.

Stamping down the desperate urge to laugh, Eijun elects to watch Satoru squirm in his seat, who's obviously bothered by something but too reluctant to bring it up. Eijun has a sneaking feeling on what exactly is getting Satoru so hot under the collar, and a quick glance to the growing tent in Satoru's track pants confirms those suspicions. With a roguish smile, Eijun takes advantage of Satoru's brief unawareness to soundlessly dip under the table and crawl towards the space between Satoru's spread legs.

Satoru, too consumed by thoughts of Eijun's cute smile and his stupid apron and his legs clad in black, almost knocks the table skyward with his knees when he feels a touch skate over the waistband of his track pants. Knowing full well what he would see if he were to look down and what kind of consequences it would incur, Satoru, the fool he is, peeks anyway.

He's greeted with the all too enthralling sight of Eijun seated between the sprawl of his thighs, his eyes flashing gold under the kitchen lights and blinding smile looking all too innocent considering how it's juxtaposed with slim fingers pulling Satoru's pants down.

"Don't mind me," Eijun says, cheeky. "Just here to fix a problem for you."

Satoru has half a mind to say _You're the problem_, but the retort dies on his tongue as Eijun finally tugs his pants down far enough to expose his black briefs, a golden gaze roving over the sizable bulge appreciatively. With a sigh, Satoru decides it's better to just ignore Eijun, beautiful as he may be, and resume eating—which was his plan before he almost chokes on his chopsticks as he feels a nuzzle on his crotch and the drum of fingertips gliding across his clothed balls.

_I don't know why I even tried_, Satoru thinks as he brings his hand down to nestle it into adorably unkempt hair. He bites down a hiss as Eijun frees his erection from the confines of his briefs, exposing it to Eijun's warm breath. Looking down, Satoru almost sobs as Eijun licks up a stripe from base to tip with the flat of his tongue. The muscles in his thighs flex under Eijun's hold as pink lips kiss the head, a pinker tongue peeking out to play with the slit.

This time, Satoru doesn't bother to muffle the guttural groan that rips out of his throat as Eijun opts to forgo teasing and engulf the flushed head of Satoru's dick in its entirety. Shuffling forward, Eijun shifts more of his weight onto his bent knees as he eagerly licks at the arousal laying heavy on his tongue. As Eijun edges closer, his nostrils are instantly overwhelmed by a smell comprising of Satoru's cologne and natural musk.

Eijun moans as fingers dig into his scalp, strands of brown hair held in an unforgiving grip, Satoru's cock slipping further into his awaiting mouth. If his mouth weren't full, Eijun would have donned a cheeky smile at how easily Satoru crumbled under his efforts. Tightening his hold on Satoru's thighs, Eijun swallows around the erection, his laugh muffled at the instantaneous reaction of Satoru crying out and hunching forward.

"You're unbelievable," Satoru manages between groans and gasps, forehead coming down to rest on the table as Eijun pulls away to reply with a knowing laugh.

He isn't given time to catch his breath as Eijun goes back to work, a warm hand cupping his balls as a mouth closes around the head and suckles at it, greedily swallowing the fluid dribbling from the tip. Satoru inhales sharply, screwing his eyes shut as warmth spreads through him, unfurling from where Eijun licks at him and dispersing throughout his pelvis.

Tilting his head forward, Eijun slides Satoru's cock inside as far his mouth will allow, his tongue lapping at the veiny underside until he feels it brush against the back of his throat. Closing his wet lips around the spit slicked surface, Eijun gives it a firm suck, slightly wincing as Satoru reacts with a jerk of his hips, trying to embed himself into the searing heat of Eijun's mouth.

Eijun responds to the gesture with a scrape of his teeth against Satoru's cock, inwardly smirking at the hitch of breath the action incites. Removing his other hand from Satoru's tensed thigh, Eijun wraps it around the base of Satoru's arousal. No matter how many times he's done this, it never fails to impress—and intimidate—him just how insignificant his hand looks in comparison to Satoru's impressive girth. As it always does, the observation sparks pleasant shivers down his spine and in between his legs. With a moan, he presses his thighs together, studiously ignoring the strain in his own underwear as he fondles the sac hanging near his chin.

He knows Satoru's close when he sees Satoru's knees jerk, and he directs more pressure into the pads of his fingers, pressing hard against the stretch of skin between balls and shaft. The hand circling Satoru's cock tightens its grip, slowly gliding to and fro as Eijun works his mouth stricter, an ache beginning to develop in his jaw as the head of Satoru's erection pushes against the smooth interior of his throat. Eijun tongues at the cock, lathering his spit all over its warmed surface as his lips stretch impossibly wider around the girth.

Moving closer, Eijun places his hands on Satoru's hips to steady himself as he forces his mouth further down the wet length. He moans when he feels the engorged head hit the back of his throat, just barely stamping down his gag reflex. His grip on Satoru's hips tighten when his lover thrusts into him, who was aroused by the vibrations surrounding his flushed cock. Eijun moves forward a bit, promptly moaning around Satoru's cock when he feels his nipples poke through the layers of his clothes and hit the seat of the chair. This time he doesn't bother stilling Satoru's ensuing thrust, merely swallowing around the cock as his mouth is abused.

Above him, Satoru trembles with want, his hand clutching to Eijun's hair like it's his last connection to the mortal world. Heat thrums through him in incessant flashes, making his skin tingle with desire and the decadent urge to rip Eijun's sinful mouth off his cock, throw him onto the cluttered table, and ram him into incoherency.

Instead, Satoru lets the pleasure simmer in his blood, gasping out whines and pants as Eijun licks and laps and sucks at his dick like his body is hardwired for it. And with how Eijun instinctively relaxes his throat to eagerly welcome the culmination of Satoru's orgasm, fluid gushing from the tip to enter Eijun's mouth in hot spurts, Satoru is heavily inclined to agree with the sentiment.

As the haze of climax fades and the aftershocks of residual pleasure taper to a faint buzz, Satoru fully collapses onto the table—mindful of his half finished plate—shuddering as Eijun pulls off his dick with an indecent squelch. A hot tongue diligently laves against his flagging arousal, thoroughly committed to licking up the remnants of Satoru's orgasm until the head is red and spit shiny.

Satoru lets out a content sigh as Eijun's smooth hands tuck him back into his underwear, his pants pulled over his hips afterwards. A low shuffling alerts him that Eijun has moved from under the table, and a second later arms wind around his shoulders in a side hug as a soft kiss is pressed into his sweaty temple. He doesn't even have to look to know that Eijun is sending him the smuggest grin imaginable.

Despite his gut's warning, he looks up anyway, and he's graced with twinkling golden eyes, a wide, red-lipped smile, and brown tresses, darkened from sweat, matting to his lover's forehead. Eijun looks so gorgeously fucked out, even though Satoru hasn't done anything to him, that Satoru can't help but smile back at his lover's clearly self-satisfied expression.

"So, how was it?" Eijun asks, his voice pitched and breathy as it wafts over Satoru's cheek, and it's so arousing that Satoru can feel himself twitch in interest.

Instead, Satoru provides him a bland look, an arm coming up to casually drape across Eijun's slim waist as he says, "The food was great."

He doesn't bother suppressing his laugh as Eijun yells at him, gathering his lover into his arms and depositing him onto his lap. He pecks Eijun's cheek, his lips then traveling to press sweetly against that devious mouth. Before the contact could delve into something more heated, Satoru pulls away, admiring the flush of Eijun's mouth and cheeks.

Eijun whines when Satoru pulls away, but he smiles anyway, slinging his arms around Satoru's neck, his side parallel to Satoru's frontal abdomen. Never one to sit still, he bestows soft kisses onto Satoru's face, from the corner of his right eye to his temple to his nose, until every patch of skin has been attended to.

Satoru lets out a pleased hum as he wraps a hand around Eijun's hip, his heart feeling fuller by the second as kisses surround his skin like a warm hug. His free hand is the only part of him moving, drifting from Eijun's chest—where he pinches a nipple hidden by shirt and apron—to skitter across a clothed stomach and finally rest on the tantalizing stretch of tan skin residing between the end of Eijun's shirt and the hem of his thigh-highs.

Satoru places his hand on the exposed portion of Eijun's thigh, lazily rubbing circles into the skin and smiling to himself as Eijun halts his onslaught of kisses to needily gasp into his ear. He skims the pads of his fingers teasingly across the shivering flesh, pleased by the sight of Eijun's chest arching and thighs clamping together.

"Let me see," Satoru says, voice low and husky as he nudges Eijun's thighs apart. Eijun lets out a shaky moan, tightening his arms around Satoru's neck as he lets his legs be slowly spread apart. He opens his eyes—when had he closed them?—when he hears a sharp intake of breath.

He watches Satoru stare at the space between his thighs, focusing on how Satoru bites his bottom lip as an all too familiar emotion swims through those steel gray eyes. Eijun's ensuing laugh snaps Satoru out of his reverie, and the man levels him a heated look that would have made his knees buckle if he hadn't been seated.

"Like it?" Eijun whispers into his cheek, referring to the black lace panties that had been hidden under the combined efforts of his shirt and apron. He smothers another laugh as the hand on his hip holds him in a grip just shy of bruising.

"You're really going to be the death of me," Satoru says, his level voice belying all the arousal surging through him, filling each nerve with the desire to pin Eijun to the nearest flat surface and just _take_.

Eijun, the bastard, hums, giving Satoru's cheek another kiss. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

The query, though innocuous, set something aflame deep inside Satoru's gut. He thinks, just this once, it wouldn't be so bad to let his basest desires assume the forefront, especially since Eijun—sweet, compassionate Eijun—is all too willing to take the brunt of his yearning and then some.

"Get up," Satoru commands, a growl undertaking his tone and Eijun, feeling his arousal stir within his constricting panties, shuffles off Satoru's lap in an instant.

Before Eijun can blink, he's pinned to the refrigerator with his hands on either side of his head, his wrists firmly secured against the cold surface. A leg jabs in between his thighs, and Eijun's legs fall open without a second thought. Satoru fits himself into the gap immediately, grinding their clothed erections together as he takes Eijun's lips into a dizzying kiss.

Eijun's answering moan is swallowed into the mesh of their mouths, and he fervently pushes his torso against the strong plane of Satoru's abdomen in pursuit of friction. He trembles as Satoru licks into his mouth, squeezing his thighs over clothed hips as Satoru's tongue drags across his teeth. Eijun absently wonders if Satoru can taste himself as he ravages his mouth.

He bucks his hips, trying to seek friction with the crotch pressed firmly against his and whining when Satoru tightens the hold on his wrists instead, forcing Eijun to keep still as he dominates the kiss. Satoru crushes himself forward, plastering Eijun's body onto the refrigerator. Breaking the kiss, he pulls away just a fraction to let Eijun breathe. Satoru uses that interval to mouth across Eijun's cheek, tongue laving over the flour streaked across the skin and letting the flavorless powder dissipate on his tongue before he's on Eijun again, feasting on cherry red lips as his hands float down to clasp at Eijun's plush thighs.

With his newly freed hands, Eijun takes ahold of Satoru's head, his fingers sifting through dark hair as a tongue plunders his mouth again. Keeping one hand on the back of Satoru's head, Eijun wraps the other around the breadth of Satoru's shoulders, urging the other man closer even though the space between their bodies is negligible.

Arching his back to press against Satoru's chest, Eijun pushes his own tongue against the one raiding his mouth, nudging at the muscle with lavish licks. Satoru groans, breath hitching and heart beating wildly as Eijun forcefully drags his head backward so that he has enough room to suck at Satoru's tongue.

Panting heavily, Satoru feels Eijun's lips trail from his mouth, over his chin and onto his throat before latching onto his Adam's apple. With a guttural moan, Satoru swerves his hips against Eijun's, digging his fingers into Eijun's full thighs in hopes of bruising them. He tips his head back slightly as Eijun's lips trace a line of heat from his throat back up to his jaw, mouth falling open to let out shameless pants as Eijun's blunt nails dig into his scalp.

When Eijun finally pulls away, Satoru takes the opportunity to hook a hand under Eijun's right leg, raising the limb so that Eijun is forced to rest his weight on his other leg and sag against Satoru's form pressed tightly to his. With the new angle, Satoru can clearly see the dark panties, tented and stretched taut across Eijun's gorgeous hips. His forehead falling forward to rest on Eijun's left shoulder, Satoru thrusts, animalistic, against the spread of Eijun's black clad thighs, reveling in Eijun's high pitched whine as their covered erections rub against each other.

Skirting his mouth across the clothed shoulder, Satoru kisses his way up Eijun's neck and latches onto an earlobe, teeth digging into the cartilage. He ruts into Eijun's pelvis, their covered arousals sliding against one another at a maddeningly slow pace and their breaths heavy as it stains the air between them with its warmth. Eijun cries out at a particularly hard thrust, grappling at Satoru's broad back for purchase as a tongue teases at the ridges of his ear.

Sensing his approaching climax, Eijun hooks the leg previously supported by Satoru's hand around the back of Satoru's knee in a wordless plea for the motions against his crotch to stop. Though Satoru doesn't want to, he obliges, but not before swiveling his hips hard, making sure that their pelvises are flush against each other as he grinds his cock onto Eijun's panty covered one. Reveling in Eijun's needy moan, Satoru chuckles into the ear in front of him, giving the blushing outer shell one last lick before pulling himself bodily away from Eijun.

Finally looking at Eijun, and inwardly marveling at his lover's utterly ravished appearance, Satoru schools his expression to a neutral one before asking, "Is something wrong?"

A laugh tumbles out of Eijun's red and lovingly used lips as he says, "You didn't even try the cake yet."

Satoru's brow furrows at that. "You got cake?"

"_Made_ it," Eijun corrects, his pout making his bottom lip jut out a little and Satoru unabashedly stares at how shiny it looks under the fluorescent lights. "You didn't even give me a chance to bring it out before you pounced on me…And I tried really hard making it, too!"

Satoru laughs at the complaint, recalling the overflowing trash bin just a few feet away that serves as a testament to Eijun's efforts. Leaning forward, Satoru kisses the pout from Eijun's mouth, plainly ignoring Eijun's protests as he presses forward until his chest is flush with Eijun's. "From how I see it, _you_ were the one who pounced on _me_," he murmurs into the space between their mouths when he pulls away.

"I was serious when I said I was helping you with your problem!" Eijun retorts, the irritation in his tone mitigated by the prominent red painting his cheeks and ears.

"And now I'm helping you with yours," Satoru parries easily, punctuating his statement with an index finger teasingly tracing circles onto a panty-covered bulge and smirking when he hears the sharp gasp it elicits.

"_Aaaah_, you're so annoying," Eijun grumbles, grabbing onto Satoru's biceps for support as that damned finger caresses him through his underwear. "Even on your birthday, you can't be cooperative."

"Well," Satoru starts, tipping his head forward to kiss his lover's pink cheek, "if you're going to go by that logic, I think it makes more sense if you're the one being cooperative with me."

Eijun determinedly suppresses a pleased sigh working through his throat as the finger travels to tease at the strap covering his hip. "You can have it your way for today, but know that I'll get you for this."

"I believe you," Satoru says, kissing Eijun's cheek again as he hooks his finger under the strap, pulls it back a fraction and lets it go, watching in mute fascination how it snaps back into place. He has to muffle his laugh into Eijun's hair when the man yelps because of the action, amused by the words of ire being spat at him.

"And how am I supposed to trust you if you're going to say it like that?" Eijun complains, wanting to sound more annoyed but failing to muster enough energy to fight back as Satoru presses his lips to the skin under his eye.

Ah, whatever; Eijun will allow the humiliation this one time.

"Okay, since you don't want to eat cake, can we not do this here? My back is starting to hurt."

"Sure." Satoru hums into his ear in reply, splaying his fingers on Eijun's hip. "I'll make sure your back is hurting for another reason."

"Wha—?" Eijun splutters, the muted pink on his cheeks exploding into a vivid red. "Since when did you talk like that?!"

"We've been dating for four years," Satoru says, and it's not fair how just a single eyebrow raise makes Eijun feel so stupid.

"I suppose!" Eijun concedes, inputting a great deal of effort in ignoring the fond smile Satoru is sending his way. Resolutely squashing the flutter in his ribcage, he disentangles himself from Satoru's hold, untying his apron and setting it over the back of a chair before stalking off to the bedroom, grumbling about handsome men and the things they get away with.

"What are you mad about this time?" Satoru calls out to Eijun long after the man had rounded the corner, too occupied by how long and luscious Eijun's legs looked in those thigh-highs. It's when he glances up just in time to see Eijun's back disappear that he notices the familiar number stitched onto the back of the shirt.

Feeling a tight heat coiling in his stomach, Satoru quickly follows—he didn't run, _honestly_—Eijun's path after clearing the kitchen table in record time, passing the open bedroom door to find Eijun sitting on their bed, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

When Eijun looks up at him, Satoru can clearly see the characters etched onto the front of the jersey, indicating the name of their high school baseball team.

"You're wearing…" Satoru trails off, too raptured by the image of Eijun wearing _his_ jersey to say anything more substantial.

Confused, Eijun glances down before breaking out into a wide smile. "Oh, this? I found it while I was cleaning the other day. I can't believe you kept it all this time."

Leaning back on his hands, he bends one leg to firmly plant a foot on the edge of the bed, oblivious to how the movement made the jersey ride up to show his panties.

A pitiful sound crawls out of Satoru's throat, sounding awfully reminiscent of a dying cat.

"It was so grimy when I found it!" Eijun rants, completely ignorant to Satoru's inner turmoil. "I mean, haven't you ever heard of the ancient art of washing clothes? We're not animals!"

Snapping back to reality after hearing his precious jersey be slandered, Satoru retorts, "I kept it for sentimental reasons. It's not like I planned on wearing it again."

Eijun glares at him. "In any case, you wouldn't believe how many washes this stubborn thing had to go through."

Stalking over to stand between Eijun's legs, Satoru places a hand on Eijun's bent knee. He pushes the limb back a little, a perverted delight rushing through him as he sees how the strain of maintaining such a position would have made a lesser man wince, but didn't induce any reaction in Eijun.

"And yet you washed it anyway," Satoru says, inwardly gleeful as he sees Eijun stiffen. "I'm sure you figured out that if I kept it hidden, it wasn't meant to be worn."

Edging his body forward, Satoru crowds into Eijun's space and he bends down, his mouth level with Eijun's ear. "That kind of makes your complaining pointless, doesn't it?"

"Er—" Eijun starts, but he's interrupted when he's gently pushed by his shoulders, his back coming to lie flat on the bedsheets as Satoru crawls between his splayed legs to hover above him.

"Yes?" Satoru says, a teasing lilt stretching his lips, mirth dancing in his gray eyes.

Seeing his lover wear such a content expression, Eijun feels his energy dissipate, potential arguments evaporating on his tongue. With a scowl, Eijun averts his eyes, saying, "Ah, just do what you want."

"Don't mind if I do," Satoru says, swooping in to kiss under Eijun's ear, trailing his lips across a reddened cheek to firmly land on those pink, pouty lips. Trusting Eijun to carry his weight, he lowers himself until he's fully draped across his lover, leaving no semblance of space between them as they're pressed chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis.

Satoru licks at Eijun's mouth, requesting access while bringing up a hand to brush along Eijun's arm before interlacing their fingers. Eijun squeezes his hand, opening his mouth so Satoru's tongue can impose on him once again. As their tongues slide against each other, Satoru thrusts, his hips slapping against Eijun's inner thighs.

Eijun mewls as his groin, which he has yet to touch, is stimulated, and he bucks up his own hips in response, eagerly pressing himself up to Satoru's gyrating hips.

Removing his tongue, Satoru kisses Eijun fully, grasping Eijun's hand a smidge tighter as he starts to roll his hips at an angle, swallowing Eijun's answering gasp as their crotches rub against each other.

As they kiss, Eijun brings up a free hand to stroke the dark hair at Satoru's nape, carding slim fingers through silky strands as his mouth is all but devoured by an equally silky mouth. Feeling the gentle motions at his neck, Satoru dials down the intensity of his kisses, opting to softly peck at Eijun's lips before taking a short breath and renewing the cycle.

Eijun sighs, stilling his hand to firmly rest it on the back of Satoru's neck as he's tenderly kissed over and over again. They spend an indeterminable amount of time like that, embracing one another with hands and lips as sugar sweet kisses are exchanged and the room is steadily filled with pleased sighs and soft whines.

Though Eijun enjoys the attention, he still can't ignore the ache in between his legs, begging to be relieved. He wraps his thighs around Satoru's waist, rolling his hips in an attempt to seek friction. Immediately, Satoru reciprocates the motion, grinding his own hips against Eijun's cock, practically tasting Eijun's whimper.

"Satoru, please," Eijun pleads when they pull apart, glazed eyes looking golden and ethereal under the dim lighting of their bedroom. His lips, red and bruised and oh so edible, part to emit soft breaths. "I want you."

And how could Satoru deny such a heartfelt request? Deciding that he has tortured his lover enough, Satoru, with great reluctance, gets up to retrieve lube from their bedside drawer. Bottle in hand, he stalks back over to the tantalizing display of Eijun spread out on the bedsheets, looking thoroughly ravished as a vibrant blush settles over his cheeks, ears, and neck.

Reassuming his position in between Eijun's splayed legs, Satoru drops the bottle beside Eijun and reaches back to pull his hoodie over his head, revealing his toned abdomen for Eijun's eyes to shamelessly devour. Carelessly tossing the garment aside, Satoru kneels down and nudges Eijun's legs further apart so that he could fully settle himself between them. Picking up the bottle, Satoru uncaps it, scooping the pink, almost translucent, substance onto his index and middle fingers.

Satoru wrinkles his nose as a fruity scent instantly permeates the air, and he glances down to check the bottle's label. "Strawberry?"

Eijun shrugs, his nonchalance contradicted by the amused smile on his face. "Thought we could try something new."

Satoru lets out an indifferent hum at that, rotating his thumb on his two fingers to warm the lube. "But why strawberry specifically?"

"The other ones smelled weird," Eijun admits, nervously flexing his fingers into the bedsheets.

"You smelled them?" Satoru fixes him a bemused look, before it morphs into an expression of exasperation. "Don't tell me you stood there and opened every bottle just to judge its smell."

At Eijun's sheepish blush, Satoru lets out a low laugh. "Idiot," he mumbles affectionately, ignoring Eijun's indignant interjection as he traces the fingers of his dry hand over the lacy edge of Eijun's panties, drumming his fingertips over the bulge where it strains the dark fabric before nearing where it covers Eijun's hole.

Hissing, Eijun bucks his hips up, gesturing for Satoru to continue touching him and pouting when the hand ghosting over his erection drifts away, presumably to divest him of his underwear.

"Well, excuse me for not wanting to use something stupid like "Mountain Madness" or whatnot," Eijun says, putting his hands to use by reaching over to pull down the panties, only for Satoru to stop him.

"Keep it on," he says, heedless to Eijun's inquiring stare. "I agree that the names are ridiculous, but at least some of them are more…discreet."

Eijun laughs at that. "You don't want people to know we have sex?"

"It's not that," Satoru says, glaring at him. "I don't want anyone to imagine your using it," he admits, a hint of possessiveness creeping into his tone.

With a fond smile, Eijun knocks his foot against the back of Satoru's thigh. "Who's the idiot now? I guarantee no one cares when they see me buy this stuff. Sure, it's embarrassing, but I'm positive everyone else is just as embarrassed. I told you about that one time the cashier refused to make eye contact with me when he was ringing me up?"

"Yeah, you're right," Satoru concedes, before his face breaks out into the smallest of smirks. "Besides, the only one who can see you like this is me."

"You dressed up so prettily for me," Satoru says, pushing the panties aside to expose Eijun's pink hole. His smirk turns roguish as he traces a wet finger around the entrance, teasingly pushing the pad inside before pulling out.

Leaning down, he licks along Eijun's ear, shallowly thrusting his finger into Eijun's hole. "I definitely can't let anyone see this."

Whimpering, Eijun clutches at Satoru's shoulders, failing to roll his hips as Satoru's dry hand firmly holds him down by the waist as he mindlessly babbles, "Yes, I dressed like this for you, always for you, never for anyone else, Satoru, _please_."

"That's right," Satoru huskily whispers into Eijun's pink ear, reveling in Eijun's loud moan as he finally plunges his index finger into the tight heat. "No one else can see this but me."

"Only you," Eijun agrees, grinding his hips in an attempt to push the finger further in. "C'mon, Satoru, _give it to me_."

Growling at Eijun's shameless display, Satoru sinks his finger further into the velvety channel, crooking the appendage and making Eijun keen. "Say it—say you're mine."

"Yes!" Eijun gasps, his walls clenching around the intrusion. "Make me yours, Satoru, take me, please."

"You're going to be the death of me." Satoru groans, the stirring in his pants intensifying as he bends his finger, scraping a blunt nail against the clamping walls. Then he pulls his finger out, curling it, dragging a high pitched whine from his quivering lover. Drawing out his finger so that only the tip is inside, he straightens the appendage and slides it back in, the movement making a crude, wet sound.

"_Ooooh_, that's good." Eijun moans, digging his fingers into the mattress.

Satoru unbuttons Eijun's jersey with his dry hand, letting the fabric fall to either side of Eijun's body. Pressing it to Eijun's heaving stomach, Satoru's hand floats over the warm skin, skidding across Eijun's ribs to pluck at a pink nipple, simultaneously prodding a second finger into Eijun's hole.

Eijun gasps, his chest jutting outward as the pleasure from his nipple being tugged mixes with the slight pain shooting up his spine as now two fingers push and press against his walls.

Soon, the room is filled with Eijun's moans and pants, his body squirming as the fingers in him twist and jab at his burning insides at a different angle, so close to hitting the bundle of nerves he desperately wishes to be touched. His back arches as Satoru's hand switches to yank at his other nipple, tweaking the pink nub to hardness.

Deeming Eijun ready to take another, if his demands of _Satoru, more_ were anything to go by, Satoru withdraws his sticky fingers and applies more lube before positioning them at Eijun's glistening hole. Letting his palm fall flat on Eijun's nipple, Satoru carefully inserts all three of his fingers at once, almost letting out a groan as he watches Eijun's hole greedily suck them in.

"_Aaah_—so good, Satoru." Eijun pants, hooking his legs around Satoru's waist to pull him closer. Wrapping his arms around his lover's neck, Eijun pulls Satoru down, taking Satoru's red lips into a sloppy kiss.

Taking advantage of the kiss, Satoru lets their tongues swirl together as his fingers pull out only to plunge in even deeper, making the man under him keen. Flexing his fingers, he scrapes at Eijun's walls teasingly, intent on making Eijun squirm but not entirely satisfying him.

If his mouth weren't occupied, Satoru would have smirked at Eijun's pitiful whine, his lover pulling him closer, as if the proximity would somehow relieve the growing inferno of desire simmering deep in his gut. Feeling merciful, Satoru pushes his middle finger far enough that the tip just barely scratches Eijun's prostate. Though the contact was brief, it makes Eijun wail loudly, his mouth falling open and his head tilting back, breaking the kiss. Undeterred, Satoru merely swipes his tongue across Eijun's chin and down his neck, tasting the sweat clinging to the soaked skin.

While tonguing Eijun's neck, Satoru slides his palm across a pert nipple, his other hand fiercely hammering in and out of Eijun's hole. He groans against Eijun's neck as hands scramble across his back for purchase, wildly flailing about before one digs its fingers in between his shoulder blades and the other fists into his hair.

"Satoru, put it in, c'mon." Eijun all but breathes out, sounding deliciously wrecked, his tongue coming out to lap at Satoru's ear.

"If you say so." Satoru rasps, though he can't say he doesn't feel the same. His cock is infuriatingly hard in his pants, begging to be touched, and all of Eijun's erotic sounds certainly didn't alleviate the tension.

Wiping his wet fingers on Eijun's thigh, purposely ignoring the indignant shout the action incites, Satoru sets to untie his pants, sitting back on his toes. He fumbles with the drawstring in his rush to remove the garment and Eijun laughs at Satoru's struggle, sitting up to lay his hand over Satoru's and unravel the knot for him.

Satoru huffs, fixing Eijun a baleful look as his lover continues to giggle at his expense. "What was the point of putting my pants back on if we were going to take it off anyway—"

"Cake, remember?" Eijun interjects, grinning at how Satoru glares at him, unimpressed.

"…Are you going to help me or not?" Satoru asks, frustrated. Glancing downward, he finally takes in their position: Since he's kneeling, Eijun's face is level with his crotch, giving Satoru very graphic ideas of how he could take out his frustration.

And it seems that Eijun shared that sentiment, seemingly satisfied with his teasing as he finally hooks his fingers in Satoru's waistband to pull down both pants and briefs. Dipping his head forward, Eijun gives the newly freed erection a luxurious swipe of his tongue.

Satoru moans, and it takes a great deal of effort to not thrust his hips forward and shove his arousal into the heat of that all too accommodating mouth. As if sensing Satoru's distress, Eijun doesn't tease: He gives the underside of Satoru's cock a few parting licks before shuffling backwards, laying on his back and spreading his legs apart.

Grabbing the bottle, Satoru squirts a generous amount of the scented substance onto his open palm, reaching down to thoroughly lather his cock until it's lightly glistening under the bedroom's low lighting. Bracing one hand on Eijun's black-clad thigh, Satoru holds his dick as he directs it to Eijun's wet hole.

Splaying his thighs further apart, Eijun reaches one hand down to push his panties aside, his other hand baring his entrance open. Letting out a deep groan at the enthralling sight, Satoru nudges the tip of his cock at Eijun's hole and he watches in fascination as the folds of skin twitch at the contact.

At Eijun's impatient command to hurry up, Satoru clenches his hand around the fullness of Eijun's thigh as the head of his cock breaches past the wrinkled skin of Eijun's hole, sighing as he's immediately enveloped by a welcoming heat. Groaning, Satoru gives a tentative swivel of his hips, glancing down to observe how Eijun's most intimate part greedily sucks him in, each inch of his cock being steadily sheathed until he's fully seated.

Staying still, Satoru places a hand next to Eijun's head, giving themselves a moment's reprieve to adjust. As he waits for his breath to even out, Satoru opts to observe Eijun, keenly taking note of fluttering eyelashes, hooded eyes, flushed cheeks, parted lips.

Eijun, too, watches Satoru, taking in the handsome view of his lover hovering above him. Reaching up, he brushes his hand against the dark fringe as it succumbs to gravity, artfully sweeping over Satoru's steel gray eyes. With that same hand, Eijun cups Satoru's pink cheek, his thumb swiping at the corner of Satoru's eye. Smiling, he brings up his other hand to curl around Satoru's neck, prompting the man to descend so that their lips can meet in a chaste embrace.

"You can move now," Eijun says when they pull apart, his hand pushing back Satoru's bangs, watching the hair fall back to place when he pulls it away.

Satoru hums his assent, diving down for another kiss as he braces both hands on either side of Eijun's head. Trusting Eijun to keep his legs apart on his own, Satoru gives an experimental roll of his hips, smiling to himself when his lover gasps his pleasure.

Draping his arms across Satoru's shoulders once again, Eijun earnestly kisses back, firmly keeping their mouths joined as Satoru slowly ruts into him, narrow hips slapping against the back of his covered thighs.

They move like that for a while, their tongues lazily stroking each other as Satoru steadily rocks into Eijun, his cock brushing against Eijun's walls at a leisurely pace. Moaning, Eijun adjusts his legs so that his heels press into the dip of Satoru's back, urging the man ever closer. The motion makes Satoru groan, forcing him further into Eijun's heat, his breath wafting over the lower portion of Eijun's face.

Closing his eyes, Satoru displaces more of his weight onto his bent knees, planting them more securely into the mattress so that he has enough balance to pull back and slam into Eijun.

Eijun cries out, legs bracketing Satoru's hips as his lover picks up a bruising cadence, pulling back slowly only to pummel his cock into the clutching heat. The bed squeaks under the forceful motions of Satoru's hips, but the pair can't bring themselves to care, too absorbed in their own world to take notice.

They kiss again, messily swapping spit and warmth as Satoru rams into the pliant body under him, his hips not once faltering as they push against the back of Eijun's thighs with each ruthless thrust. With each plunge, Eijun makes sure to squeeze around Satoru's cock before it leaves him, making his lover release the most erotic snarl.

One last desperate push has Satoru groaning, spilling his essence deep into Eijun, his vision whiting out as waves of pleasure wash over him. Exhaustion makes him fold, collapsing onto Eijun and making him squeak out a comical exclamation of surprise.

However, peace doesn't reign for long: Eijun tightens the hold his thighs have around Satoru's waist, grinding his erection up against the hard planes of Satoru's stomach. Satoru lets out a weak moan, Eijun's satiny walls still clamping at his now softening cock, overstimulating it as sharp tingles of pleasure shoot up his spine.

Leaning up on his elbows, Satoru ducks his head to mouth at Eijun's sweaty chest, rosy lips tracing the dips and curves of the skin presented before him, traveling to lave at a pert nipple. Dragging the flat of his tongue across the hard nub, Satoru shallowly thrusts his hips, shivering as his cock is caressed by a potent heat.

Letting his weight rest on one bent elbow, Satoru reaches down to palm the tent in Eijun's panties, licking his way up to the hollow of Eijun's throat and tasting the jumping pulse under his tongue as Eijun arches into him, his back a half circle as he climaxes with a loud cry.

Satoru pulls out, hissing lowly as trace amounts of pleasure run through his spent cock. He watches Eijun's hole twitch, as if begging to be filled again, when he fully unsheathes himself. A groan slips out of his throat as his own essence trickles out of Eijun's entrance, staining Eijun's perineum as it pools into the panties.

Finally succumbing to the exhaustion creeping up his spine, Satoru gracelessly flops down onto Eijun, lowly laughing at the _you're heavy!_ his lover shouts at him.

"There's a whole bed for you to sleep on," Eijun grumbles, but there's no heat in it as he wraps his arms around Satoru's neck, threading his fingers through sweaty locks and allowing a private smile as Satoru lets out a content sigh, nuzzling his face into Eijun's damp chest.

"This is more comfortable," Satoru mutters, lazily reaching up to interlock his hand with Eijun's, his eyes fluttering shut as the steady heartbeat under his ear lulls him to peace—which doesn't last for long as the body trapped under him squirms uneasily, thighs coming up to teasingly brush against his hips.

"Stop moving so much," Satoru scolds, his free hand coming up to pinch Eijun's nipple as punishment.

Eijun squeals, fidgeting even more as the pinch stoked a low flame in his stomach. "It's not my fault! I feel so gross and sticky!"

Satoru snorts. "I thought feeling like that was common during intercourse."

"First of all, don't use that word again," Eijun says, scrunching his nose in distaste. "Secondly, you're the one who c-ca—did it in me, so it's just me who's sticky!"

Smiling to himself at Eijun's mid-sentence switch-up, Satoru says, "It's fine, right? It's my birthday after all."

He has to stifle a laugh as a fist thumps his back in anger. "How is that an excuse?! You do it regardless, birthday or not!"

Tilting his chin up, Satoru pins Eijun the most downtrodden look he can muster, complete with a wobbling lower lip and watery eyes. "So that means I can't do it anymore?"

"Urk!" Eijun exclaims, a heated retort promptly dying in his throat. Through grit teeth, he says, "You are a soulless, conniving, heartless—"

"Mhmm." Satoru interjects with a noncommittal hum. Flopping his head back down on Eijun's chest, he reassumes his attempt at falling asleep.

"Do you know how expensive these were—"

Finding his quest of slumber to be futile, Satoru opens his eyes, forlornly staring at the sheets as he tunes out Eijun's tirade. He feels a smidge of regret in doing so, but in his defense he had a tiring day. If anything, the only reason he hadn't passed out yet was simply because Eijun's…_outfit_ had energized him more than he expected.

As if following his thoughts, Satoru's eyes gravitate towards the object of his musings, honing in on the black fabric stretching across smooth, tan skin. Seeing it again, without the presence of arousal clouding his senses, Satoru ponders over why those garments elicited such a strong reaction from him. Even now, he can feel a familiar heat pooling low in his gut, stirring inside him in restless circles.

He wonders if it's because the color complements Eijun's skin nicely, making tan skin stand out more, or if it's because the panties itself accentuate the generous curve of Eijun's ass, easily enticing any onlooker to appreciably rove their gaze over the firm bottom—

_Ah_, Satoru thinks worriedly, _does this make me a pervert?_

"Listen to what I have to say!" Eijun shouts, interrupting Satoru's train of thought. "Why do I even bother at this point…After I put all that effort into making that cake, too."

"That cake must be really good if you're still complaining about it."

Eijun makes a haughty noise. "Of course it's good—" _I hope_, he mumbles quickly under his breath. "—I made it after all!"

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"I think you said something else—"

An abrupt laugh, sounding awfully forced, bursts out of Eijun. "I have no idea what you mean!"

"I see," Satoru says, unconvinced. "Well, it's fine. If it's bad, we can just buy another one."

"'Buy'?!" Eijun parrots, scandalized. "Should I feel offended that you have no faith in my baking skills? See if I make anything else for you!"

He's about to make a retort before he decides against it; the last time he pestered Eijun to the limits of his patience, his lover had taken out his anger by staunchly purchasing only sparkling water for a whole week, and then some extra days, knowing fully well Satoru hated that abomination of a drink.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to insult your hard work," Satoru says, hoping his apologetic tone would mask the laugh threatening to leak out.

Eijun narrows his eyes. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," Satoru replies, untangling himself from Eijun. "I'm not allowed to express my regret?"

"Like I'd believe that." Eijun rolls his eyes, then yelping when his knees are hooked over Satoru's elbows. "Wha—I knew you were up to something! This is grounds for a suing, you deceitful, scheming, dishonest—"

"Is insulting me your idea of flirting?" Satoru flashes him a disarming smile, thoroughly pleased by how unguarded it makes Eijun look. "What if I was into that?"

"Ack!" That shut Eijun up.

With a triumphant smirk, Satoru hikes his lover's legs up, settling knees over his shoulders so that those full thighs are making a 'V' shape over his chest.

"These look really nice, by the way," Satoru offhandedly remarks, his fingers tracing the skin where it connects to fabric, arousal spiking as he watches Eijun's face burst into color. "You should wear it more often."

Eijun buries his face in his hands, his voice long gone as embarrassment rules over him.

With a fond chuckle, Satoru splays his fingers over tan thighs, nose finding purchase on the side of Eijun's left knee. Satoru nuzzles into the satiny texture, keenly aware of the hitch in Eijun's breath. He then drags his nose downward, feeling fabric bleed into soft skin, simultaneously pulling Eijun towards him by the thighs so that Eijun's upper back and shoulders are the only parts of him in contact with the bed.

He stops until his face is level with Eijun's soaked panties, the dark fabric sporting even darker patches where both his and Eijun's climax had stained it. Maneuvering Eijun's right thigh onto his shoulder, so that his neck is flanked on both sides, Satoru grasps at both hips to balance his lover closer to him.

Up this close, Satoru can see the shape of Eijun's waking erection as it presses against the underwear, the sight as obscene as it is arousing. Satoru leans forward to kiss the clothed bulge, trailing his lips towards the outer seam of fabric. Brushing his lips against the innermost segment of Eijun's thigh, Satoru flattens his tongue across both garment and skin, inwardly smirking at Eijun's high-pitched yelp.

Eijun's hands fly from his face to scramble for the bedsheets, his heart hammering wildly as his lover licks at his inner thigh, lathering his skin with a layer of saliva to add to the sweat already drying there. He gasps, head tipping back, when he feels the pressure of teeth indenting into his skin. The blush on his face reddens, spreading down his neck, when he hears lewd noises coming from Satoru's mouth, which could only indicate that his lover is sucking a hickey into his thigh.

"_Aah_, Satoru—" Eijun breathes as Satoru licks a line down the exposed portion of his thigh. "—d-don't tease."

Satoru looks up from mouthing another bruise into Eijun's skin to admire the way a stunning red blossoms over the trembling flesh before making eye contact with Eijun. With a smile, he says, "Since it's my birthday, shouldn't I be allowed to take things at my pace?"

Eijun whines, his brow twisting to broadcast his annoyance. "Uuugh, Satoru, please."

"Please what?" Satoru asks, smirking at Eijun's irritated groan. He pokes his tongue against the thigh-high by his face, dragging it upwards to prod at the newly forming hickey staining Eijun's otherwise unblemished skin. He hides his smirk into Eijun's thighs as the man whines again, agitated.

"I need—" Eijun starts, but cuts himself off with a gasp as a finger traces the outline of his cock. With a whine, he bucks his hips, his ass grinding impatiently against Satoru's chest in hopes it would speak for what he wants. "_Satoruuu_."

Satoru, feeling benevolent, concedes to his lover's demands. Keeping one thigh hooked over his shoulder, he carefully lowers the other one so that Eijun can wrap it around his abdomen. Had it been anyone else, the position would have overexerted their capacity to be stretched in such a manner, but Eijun's body was malleable enough that it could be manipulated to any position that caught Satoru's fancy—Satoru internally thanks whichever entity that graced his lover with such inhuman flexibility.

Once they settle, Satoru reaches down to push aside Eijun's panties, exposing a little of Eijun's sac and his twitching wet hole. He watches, with perverted intrigue, more of his own essence seep out of Eijun's abused entrance and into Eijun's soaked underwear. If he hadn't been hard before, the lewd sight would have definitely brought him to full arousal.

"What's with your insistence on keeping this on?" Eijun asks, partly due to curiosity but mostly to break Satoru out of that weird reverie he was in. It wasn't the first time his lover had stared at him, and his most intimate parts, so blatantly, but that odd gleam in those gray eyes triggered his self-preservation instincts, prompting him to disrupt whatever strange trance that had taken ahold of Satoru.

"It looks nice," Satoru replies airily, his tone belying the heat of arousal surging through him when he looks down to see Eijun thoroughly and utterly debauched.

His lover is breathing heavily, a pretty red blush blooming across Eijun's cheeks, ears, and neck. Satoru notes, with a hint of wicked glee, that the brilliant color is beginning to leak onto his heaving chest, highlighting reddened, pert nipples. The jersey no longer obstructing his greedy gaze, Satoru can unabashedly stare at the way Eijun's stomach glows under the lights, sweat dripping down a flat plane of skin to dip into soaked panties.

"_You_ look nice," Satoru amends, wondering if he could somehow persuade Eijun into wearing this particular ensemble again. Just the mere thought of coming home to Eijun wearing his ace jersey and thigh-highs and panties—and ace jersey and thigh-highs with _nothing underneath_—has Satoru digging his teeth into his lower lip to stifle a groan.

Somehow, Eijun flushes harder at the unexpected compliment. With a fond smile, he beckons Satoru closer with a foot to his lover's back. "Get on with it, will you?"

Seeing no room for argument, Satoru smiles back. He shuffles around a bit to secure himself more comfortably on the bed, sitting only on his toes and bent knees. Holding tightly to Eijun's thigh, he wraps his large hand around his shaft, directing the head of his cock to Eijun's quivering, damp hole.

Due to their previous round, Satoru glides in easily, meeting no resistance as he bottoms out. He groans heavily as he's encased by that heavenly heat again, his vision almost whiting out. Judging by Eijun's answering moan, his lover feels the same.

Using that moment of stillness to catch their breaths, the pair sit quietly, acclimating to the sensations assaulting them. When Eijun rolls his hips to indicate his readiness, the spell lifts and something more depraved replaces it.

Satoru snaps his hips forward, his pelvis flush against Eijun's ass, and they moan in unison, arousal electrifying their nerves. Pulling away until only the head of his cock is penetrating Eijun, Satoru slams himself back in, setting up a brutal pace.

High moans and shallow pants warm the already heated air as the sound of skin slapping against skin envelops the bedroom. Once again, Satoru tests the limits of their bed frame as he thrusts with reckless abandon, the bed squeaking under his vicious motions. Spurred on by Eijun's throaty keens and whines, he rails Eijun as hard as he can, pleasure streaking across his hips and back.

Slipping forward, Satoru plants a hand onto the mattress to ground himself as he rocks his hips against Eijun's ass, drilling his cock as far as he can to reach that sweet spot inside his lover. He's taken out of his haze when a hand softly wraps around his bicep, the muscle bunching as it's being exerted.

He looks down to see the ethereal visage of his lover in the throes of pleasure. Eijun's eyes are positively glowing under the light, irises a molten gold and swimming with adoration and fondness. Satoru feels his heart lurch under his lover's gaze, and he careens forward to reciprocate that love in the form of bending Eijun in half so that he can pummel even harder into the warmth surrounding him.

Pleasure spikes up his spine as he watches Eijun take the rough treatment in stride, barely flinching as the leg on Satoru's shoulder is bent further, his thigh almost parallel to his chest as his knee hovers over his own shoulder.

The leg around Satoru's waist tightens its grip as he's tugged forward, his lips caught in a filthy kiss as he fucks into Eijun relentlessly. He moans into the kiss, his tongue lolling out to lick at Eijun's red lips and white teeth and pink tongue. Drool begins to seep out of the corner of Eijun's mouth as his lips are all but devoured by Satoru's hot and insistent mouth, but it goes unnoticed as Eijun eagerly responds with long swipes of his own tongue.

Saliva is swapped as the pair engage in an obscene imitation of a kiss, moans and sighs filling the air between their mouths. The bed sheets wrinkle under Eijun's back as Satoru thrusts into Eijun wildly, making the man keen as the head of his cock breaches far enough to stab against Eijun's prostate. Balancing himself, Satoru shoves his cock in and out at that angle, intent on abusing those bundle of nerves to make his lover scream.

Feeling Eijun's walls clamp down on him, Satoru pushes harder, the muscles in his thighs flexing under the exertion as his hips smack loudly against Eijun's ass. He groans when he sees Eijun rub his hands over himself, palms sliding down his sweaty stomach before lowering the hem of his panties to pull his cock out.

The heat broiling in his gut curls sharply as Satoru notes how the fruits of Eijun's previous orgasm coat Eijun's pink cock and flushed hips in specks of white. He watches Eijun gather the remnants of his climax and lather it on his hard and leaking cock, pleasuring himself as he strokes the shaft frantically.

The immodest display has Satoru groaning again, and he ducks his head down, crushing Eijun further into himself, to take Eijun's lips for another mind-numbing kiss. Eijun moans into his mouth, hands coming up to grip at his silky hair as Satoru pounds into the pliant body under him.

With a full body shudder, Eijun finishes with a loud cry, staining both his and Satoru's chests. He isn't given time to catch his breath as Satoru chases after his lips again, teeth digging into the plush of his bottom lip as hips slap harshly against his ass.

Speeding closer to climax, Satoru expends the last of his dwindling energy into one last desperate thrust, heedless to Eijun's pained whine as his prostate is prodded and pleasure wracks his sensitive body. Feeling Eijun's velvety walls spasm around his cock, Satoru sheathes himself as far as Eijun's passage will allow before he spills into the warmth, climaxing with a low, drawn out groan.

Sighing in contentment, Satoru gives a few more shallow thrusts of his hips, prolonging the bliss coursing through him. He smirks as Eijun pins him an annoyed glare, but the heat behind it lessens as Eijun moans from the overstimulation of his abused hole. After a couple more thrusts, Satoru finally withdraws, pulling his soft cock out of Eijun, and he has to stifle a moan as the movement causes fluid to ooze out of the wet hole and into the panties, dampening it further.

When the pleasure fades, exhaustion sneaks in and Satoru can feel the strain in his legs from how long he's held that bent position. Depositing Eijun's legs onto the bed, Satoru allows himself to collapse beside Eijun, too tired to tuck his now flaccid erection back into his briefs.

Eijun fixes him an unimpressed look when his lover flops down next to him. "Really?"

Satoru gives a one-shouldered shrug as he settles on his side, inserting his arm under the pillow beneath his head. "'m tired."

Eijun rolls his eyes, moving over to tuck Satoru into his briefs and tying the drawstring of Satoru's track pants into a messy knot. "You're lucky I love you."

With a casual tone that fails to reflect the fondness warming his chest, Satoru says, "I know. Love you too."

Eijun's answering laugh is bright and beautiful when he shuffles off the bed to walk towards their bathroom. "Now you made me even dirtier!" he calls out from inside, which is followed by the sound of rushing water.

When Eijun comes back, a towel in hand, he's wearing a dark short-sleeved shirt a size too big. Satoru thinks it's probably his, but he's too distracted by the sight of bared legs to ruminate any further. He sighs when Eijun bends over to wipe across his chest, leering at Eijun's retreating back when the man moves away to return it to the bathroom.

When Eijun returns and lies next to him to snuggle, Satoru says, "It's not like you hated it."

"Oh, quiet you," Eijun murmurs, nuzzling his face into Satoru's neck as he throws an arm around Satoru's middle.

Satoru hums, his free hand coming up to drum along the curve of Eijun's hip before it dips down to lift the hem of Eijun's—_his_—shirt. He can't help the disappointed sigh that slips out of him when he sees that Eijun has replaced the panties with a rather bright pair of boxers.

"I heard that," Eijun quips. "I'm not wearing dirty underwear to bed."

"I liked it, though," Satoru says, and there definitely isn't a whine edging his tone.

"And like I said, I'm not wearing dirty underwear to bed. If it bothers you so much, I'll wear it another time," Eijun says in a placating tone that parents use to negotiate with their kids, giving Satoru the distinct feeling that he's being looked down upon. "Should I worry that you're becoming a pervert?"

"You're going to keep the thigh-highs too, right?" Satoru asks, pointedly ignoring that last statement. He looks at Eijun's bare thighs, already bemoaning the loss of silky fabric adorning the tan skin. His only condolence is the smattering of bright hickeys he left behind, and he reaches down to caress the edge of a fading mark, smiling to himself as the action makes Eijun suck in a breath.

Eijun sighs, swatting at Satoru's curious hand. "Yes, I'm keeping it; I'll even wear it whenever you want."

"You should wear a bow with it. So you look like an actual present," Satoru says, trailing his hand up Eijun's thigh, giving Eijun's bottom a quick grope, before curving it over the dip of Eijun's back as he nudges his lover closer, draping his elbow over Eijun's hip.

Eijun snorts, his breath scattering over Satoru's neck. "Don't push it."

Satoru laughs, having already known what Eijun's answer would have been. "Thanks," he whispers fondly once their faces get close enough. He thinks he could stare at the gold flecks dancing in Eijun's eyes all day.

"You're welcome," Eijun whispers back, just as tenderly. "But don't think I forgot about that insult against my cake; you're going to eat it whether you like it or not."

Satoru lets out a low laugh. "You and this cake."

"I worked hard on it!" Eijun exclaims. "And for you! The least you could do is acknowledge my efforts!"

"So loud," Satoru says, scrunching his eyes.

"I'm talking normally!" Eijun huffs, miffed at being ignored. "This is grounds for a suing."

"Shh, let me sleep," Satoru murmurs, curling his hand further into Eijun's back. Eijun's limitless body heat always did make him a great pillow.

Eijun grumbles some more insults under his breath, but it quickly peters out and his face settles onto a more adoring expression as he watches gray eyes disappear under closed eyelids. "Do you want me to turn off the lights?"

"'s fine," Satoru mumbles, close to drifting off. "I like seeing your face when I wake up."

With that, he dozes off completely, his soft snores filling in the silence. Eijun has half a mind to smack Satoru up the head for saying something so romantic to him and then nodding off right after, but Eijun will allow this slight for just one time—and only because it's Satoru's birthday, not for any other underlying reason!

Shuffling forward a bit, Eijun places a soft kiss on the skin between Satoru's eyebrows, before withdrawing to settle more comfortably against his lover. As his consciousness drifts off to slumber, he makes a quick mental note to give Satoru his actual present tomorrow.

* * *

**as always, ****pardon any mistakes and ****thanks for reading!**


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